


Rose Tattoo

by queenteenage



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2018-04-22 21:51:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4851737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenteenage/pseuds/queenteenage





	Rose Tattoo

For an up and coming tattoo artist about to open his own shop, Harry should have been overjoyed. And he was, kind of. Everything was perfect when he thought about it. The exterior of the parlor was painted a deep onyx, and the intricate ship appliqué accompanied by the shop's name, Platonical Nautical, on the glass window was flawless. But he just couldn't bring himself to be that thrilled. There was something bugging him, something with a beige front wall and a pastel green banner that read Fleures de Belle in fancy script.   
There was a brand new flower shop located directly next door to Harry's equally brand new tattoo parlor. Quite honestly, he was anything but happy about it. When he had first visited the street with his best friend Zayn, who insisted there could never be a more prime location, Harry had almost refused. He had been extremely close to walking away from the property and looking for another place. But, he was short on cash, and the shop's former owner was so desperate to sell it that he was practically giving it away.  
However, Harry was still restless. No, he didn't reckon he was allergic to flowers, and the type of people going to a florist probably weren't out scouting for a tattoo anyway. But who in their right mind would opt to go to a tattoo parlor with hydrangeas sprouting out of the sidewalk? Zayn had told him not to be stupid and that he was being too pessimistic. Nevertheless, nothing from "there are barely any flowers outside anyway" to "you're talented enough that you needn't worry about it" could convince him.  
That morning, though, he was alone. Zayn was out of town, and Harry's sister had said he was unable to join him until later that afternoon. He walked down the street alone, long before the rest of the world had woken up, hands stuffed deep in his pockets. A restless night of tossing and turning had led him to rise far earlier than he would have preferred, and his tousled hair indeed looked fresh out of bed. Although he could have sworn he remained on the concrete sidewalk the entire walk, early morning dew was still managing to seep into the thin canvas of his black shoes. So, with tired eyes and damp feet, he made his way to his tattoo parlor.  
Just as he had reached the shop and was fishing in his pockets for the keys, he heard a faint jingling to his left. Glancing over, he was greeted by the sight of his new neighbor. Harry hadn't seen, let alone met, the person before and had quite honestly anticipated the florist being male. So when he saw the petite, brown-haired man with black skinny jeans and a box of flower pots tucked under his arm, he couldn't help staring. The surprise of seeing this florist so early, while the cold breeze brushed his long hair, made Harry think that he hadn't seen anyone as beautiful in his life.  
He didn't get the chance to stare for too long before the florist turned around, catching him red handed. Immediately a sweet smile curved over his pink lips, and deep dimples appeared onhis cheeks. He was undeniably charming. Harry returned the smile.  
"Morning!" the florist called. he took a step back from where he was standing, setting the box of flower pots down and brushinghis hands on his pants as he walked over. he stood in front of Harry and held out his hand. "I'm Louis."  
"Hi, Louis. I'm Harry," he said confidently, putting his hand in hers.  
"You must be the tattoo artist. Do you open today?" Louis asked, receiving a nod from Harry. "Too wild! I do, too. Funny, innit?"   
Harry raised a questioning eyebrow.  
"I mean, look at the contrast." Harry hadn't realized that his hand was still in Louis' until he let go to point towards the split of color on the brick wall.  
"Oh, that," Harry chuckled. He tried not to think about the fact that he had been complaining about that very thing to Zayn the day before.  
"Maybe we'll, like, inspire people. To get rose tattoos or something," Louis said.  
Harry didn't know if he was supposed to laugh, but he smiled for the sake of the pretty blue eyes in front of him.  
"Maybe you should get to know flowers more, just in case someone comes in and wants a tattoo of one. I mean, I can help you with that… if you want."  
Harry again found himself not knowing how to respond. Louiswas blunt and straightforward, and Harry was calculating and a chronic over-thinker. He tried to figure out what he was implying, if anything, but he couldn't, and it was equal parts infuriating and intriguing.  
"Just let me know," Louis said with a smile. “Do you need help taking things inside or anything?  
"It's fine. I got everything in order a week ago."  
Louis smiled and wished him luck, but didn't walk away until Harry had opened the shop and disappeared inside, a soft smile playing on his mouth.  
His first day went by rather uneventfully, with only one customer, whom was actually sent by Zayn. Harry figured it wasn't too bad of a start, considering he hadn't expected anyone to take him seriously because of the location.  
::::::  
When he awoke and opened his eyes the next day, he stayed in bed, hoping to have more to do than mopping the floor and organizing the catalogues at his shop.  
He tried to get himself up before seven, but couldn't manage to convince himself to leave the warm haven of his bed. He reasoned nobody wanted a tattoo at 8 o'clock in the morning anyway. Flower shops, on the other hand, probably needed an earlier opening time. And with that thought circulating in his mind, he locked his apartment door behind him at 9 o'clock.  
A little flutter erupted in Harry's stomach as he passed Fleures de Belle, but he didn't stop, and instead dragged himself one door over to Platonical Nautical. He picked up a stray piece of garbage that had been left behind the day before, tossing it in the bin before opening the curtains, letting sunlight stream into the small shop. He walked to the tiny bathroom at the back of his store, washing his hands before lazily wandering back up front, making a mental to-do list. As he reached the front, though, he stopped short, a pleasant surprise waiting for him.  
Louis stood by the door with a single pink rose in hand. Harryabsently thought that the paper in which it was wrapped had the same green pattern as his shirt.  
"Morning!" Louis chirped, beaming.  
Harry opened his mouth and closed it again. Recovering quickly, he offered his a good morning back and invited his in. He watched as he looked down at his shoes when he walked forward, and couldn't help but notice how the rose was the same color as his lips.  
"Here,” he said, holding out the rose. “I brought you this."  
Harry smiled softly and thanked him, slightly bewildered.  
"You're not allergic, are you?" he asked.  
Harry shook his head.  
"Why do you ask?"  
"I don't know, you just looked shocked." Louis said. "I mean, I hope you don't have, like, a phobia of flowers or something. That would be bad, to bring you flowers if you hated them."  
"No,” he laughed. “I rather like them." He wasn't sure if the cheeky grin playing on Louis' face meant that he had been telling a joke (albeit a bad one), or if he was just always this smiley. He wasn't sure of anything really, except that he wanted Louis to stay a little longer. But he couldn't find the words to say so, so he watched Louis walk out the door, calling a goodbye over his shoulder.  
::::::  
Two weeks went by, and Harry had settled in surprisingly nicely. More and more customers had been coming in, and none of them had been referred directly by Zayn; they were all sent by other customers.  
But, if Harry was being honest, that was not the real reason he was starting to accept this place. The real reason had nothing to do with customers, money, or any of that. The real reason laid in a certain tiny florist, whom, without fail, had given him a rose every single day. Despite Harry's numerous offers to give his a tattoo in compensation, he had declined every time.  
They were different, that was for certain. Louis was cheeky and snarky, never one to be afraid of talking to people and being the center of attention. Harry, on the other hand, was the total opposite. He liked to spend time by himself more than anything. Not to mention Louis being the definition of a morning person, whereas Harry could hardly roll out of bed before nine in the morning.  
Later that day, the clock hit 12:30, and his afternoon appointments had both rescheduled, leaving him with nothing more to do. So, when Louis came in bearing an invitation to a favorite coffee shop of hers that he thought he would love, Harrycouldn't find a real reason to decline.  
Harry wasn't convinced that this little flower shop owner could possibly have a place in mind that would suit both of them, but he enjoyed his company nonetheless.  
Harry closed the shop, and they began walking together. Harrywas quite a bit taller than Louis; combined with his broad shoulders and wide brimmed hat, Louis looked even daintier than usual standing next to him. But it worked for them, and they seemed to be the human embodiement of the "opposites attract" cliché.  
The café was small and cozy, warm with the smell of pastries baking and coffee roasting. Louis picked a table by the window, and Harry didn’t argue, liking the way the sunlight bounced off the irises of his eyes.  
"So,” Louis began after they had both received their drinks. “How are you?"  
Harry answered with a shrug of his shoulders.  
“I’ve been alright. The shop’s doing pretty well. How about you? How’s business?”  
"Pretty good!" Louis beamed. he went through different quirky customers, telling stories of desperate men who came to his shop in an effort to make amends with an angry wife, or nervous boys who were working up the courage to ask out a girl.  
Harry laughed delightedly with every word that left Louis’s mouth. His extravagant story-telling was prime, with hand gestures and snarky commentary thrown in here and there.  
They continued to talk of business and share stories, laughing a good deal as they watched the other customers come and go. When they finally did depart a good 2 hours later, Harrycouldn’t help but think that he had never enjoyed someone's company so much in his life.  
Later that night, close to midnight, Harry's phone rang. He had just gotten home after the two rescheduled appointments had decided that they could come in after all, and he was exhausted. He had already resolved to turn his phone off without answering the call when his eyes landed on the glowing name on the screen.  
"Why on earth are you awake, young man?" he quipped as he answered.   
Louis' laugh was light and melodic, making Harry smile to himself silently.  
"I can’t sleep! The coffee from earlier has me totally buzzing."  
Harry laughed, jokingly reprimanding him. They continued to talk for another hour, a solid 20 minutes of which was taken up by Louis’s commentary on a panda documentary he was watching, before the steady sound of his breathing was the only noise coming through Harry’s phone speaker. As he drifted off to sleep, the only thought in his mind was that there was no way caffeine from an afternoon coffee could last for 12 hours.  
He fell asleep smiling.  
::::::  
The next morning, the sight of Louis' closed shop left Harrydissappointed. He absently wondered if he had slept in, seeing as how late he was up the night before.   
As he took the steps up to his own shop, he was greeted by a rose waiting by the door. He knelt down to get it and couldn't stop himself from laughing aloud when he saw that Louis had wrapped it in panda print floral paper.  
Two customers later, the rumbling of a van outside the shop caught Harry’s attention. He watched curiously as Louis hopped out of the passenger side, walking around to the back to help the driver unload do Zayns of potted flowers onto the floor. Harrywaited until the man had left in the van to go speak to him.  
She looked up as he approached him, and he said a bright hello.  
"Hi, Harry! Did you find the rose I left you?"  
Harry grinned, affirming that he had, before glancing down at the boxes littering the ground.  
"Flowers,” Louis said, answering his question before he had the chance to ask it. “I had to go and bring them in myself."  
"Do you want a hand getting them inside?"  
"No, you don't have to."  
"That wasn’t the question," Harry smiled.  
Louis picked up a box, while Harry grabbed two, and together they carried them inside the flower shop. An hour later, they were both sweaty and out of breath, and they collapsed on the patio of the shop.  
Louis panted out a thank you, and Harry was about to make fun of how out of shape he was until he realized he could hardly find the breath to say ‘you’re welcome.’   
::::::  
Harry was finishing up the last of the six tattoos he had completed that day. Zayn was there to keep him company, and thank God he was. Harry would well have lost his mind if he had been alone. Not long after the latest customer had checked his new tattoo in the mirror and left, Harry was cleaning up the last of the supplies when Zayn burst through the door.   
"Guess who wants a tattoo?" he said breathlessly. “Nevermind, don’t, because you’ll never guess. It’s Louis!"  
Harry would have thought it was a different Louis if he didn't see him leaning against the doorframe, his long hair spilling over his shoulders and a bright smile on his face.   
"So, who's going to draw my tattoo?" he asked, clapping his hands together.  
Harry looked at him quizzically before asking if he was sure, to which he smiled and confirmed that he was indeed.   
“I’ll do it,” Harry murmured to Zayn, earning a sarcastic “duh” in reply.  
"Well, I’ll be off to let Harry do his job, yeah?" Zayn said with a smile. "Good luck, Louis."  
Louis smiled and offered a thank you as he closed the door behind him, leaving him and Harry alone.  
"Louis, tattoos hurt. You’re positive?" Harry asked again.  
Louis shushed him, pulling the arm hole of his tank top down to reveal an intricate flower on his rib cage.  
“I’ve gotten tattoos before. I’m well aware of what they feel like.”  
Harry blinked. After he had rebuffed his offer of a tattoo so many times, he had just assumed he didn’t have any. He gestured for him to have a seat in the chair next to him.   
"Do you have a specific design in mind?” Harry asked, pulling out his design pad, along with several catalogues. “Or do you want to check these out?"  
"Actually, I have an idea in mind. I want a rose. Specifically, a William Morris," Louis smirked. Harry could tell that he was well aware that he hadn’t the faintest idea what a William Morris rose looked like.  
"Y’know, it looks like you actually do need the lessons I offered you that day." Louis said.  
Harry raised an eyebrow at him, a grin spreading across his face. As Louis produced none other than a William Morris rose from behind his back, revealing the same type that he'd been giving him for the past month, Harry thought that maybe, just maybe, buying this little shop on the street had been a good idea after all.


End file.
